Hello, again, Blogonauts! This region of the Rhine valley (or in German, "Rhein"...no matter, because they are pronounced the same) is bespeckled with Gothic castles, hillside vineyards, and medieval villages that sprouted up around them. While they share a lot in common, each is also unique. The imposing castles were constructed on the river's banks by local kings (often depicted as robber-barons) in order to extract customs and tolls from ships traversing their little kingdom's segment of the river. This went on for centuries. But even though they had mostly ceased charging for such passage by the 18th century, German fortresses were too intimidating for Napoleon to tolerate. So, while the vineyards have thrived, since the Napoleonic wars most of the castles have slipped into relative decay ... ranging from mere decrepitude to outright ruin. Nonetheless, no matter their state of repair, they remain a scenic wonder and a draw for gawking visitors and avid hikers. On Saturday I joined the throngs to gawk and hike. The river cruise from Bacharach to St. Goar was a lovely 45-minute glide through a landscape that must have inspired Disney. I spent the time snapping photos all along the way. (I hope you enjoy viewing a few of them.) In addition to the variety of gothic architecture, there are significant natural sights, as well. Some are legendary. Humans sometimes warn one another of dangers via enchanting (i.e., memorable ) stories. (Grimm's fairy tales and some Biblical narratives come to mind.) Two relatively treacherous navigational hazards on the Rhein have gained their place in German folklore. The first we encountered are a set of rocks in the river called the Seven Maidens. The myth of their naming is that they are the petrified remains of 7 sisters, punished by God for defying their father when he instructed them to get married. Alright...The story warns sailors to watch for threatening shallow water. But backhandedly it describes the stultifying status instilled on unmarried women. The second is the Loreley (a.k.a., Lorelei), an imposing granite cliff that forces the Rhein to bend around it. It marks the narrowest stretch of this portion of the river. The legend here is that a mournful young maiden named Loreley sings enticingly from the precipice WHILE ENDLESSLY COMBING HER HAIR(!!!). The horny young sailors are thus distracted from watching for the shallows and dangerous currents. Disaster, if it follows, is blamed on the imaginary girl. The Rhein's myth-makers seem both cruel and cowed by the women among them. They acted as if women needed warning labels for being hazardous to their health (assuming they were young straight males). I'm sure the gay sailors found enough distractions on board ship. Warning men instead to be mindful of their sex drives would have covered all such contingencies. But I have grudgingly noticed that my ancestors typically ignore my efforts to solve their social problems. Once in Sankt Goar, I grabbed a snack before climbing the hill to explore the ruins of Burg (Castle) Rheinfels. Its condition is as sad as Greek and Roman ruins that are three-times as old, but the view from its parapets were worth the sweaty ascent. The return trip to Bacharach was aboard a different ferry in the company's fleet. Just in case I was feeling too far from home, this boat came equipped with a fully functioning Subway sandwich restaurant. I did not partake, however. My plans are to spend Sunday hiking around Bacharach, then on Monday to visiting Cologne before returning to Frankfurt. Blog to you later!